Treasure of the World by Tara Sullivan (best romantic books to read txt) 📗

miner boy showing up just a few days ago? It’s too much of a coincidence. Could it be?

“When was that, Juana?” Yenni asks.

“The day the boy was first seen in the city,” Juana whispers to the wall, never pausing her washing, “was three days after the cave-in.”

“The cave-in that killed your uncle?” asks Yenni softly.

Juana nods. I feel nausea roll through my belly. Does she know that people blame me for that cave-in? Does she now blame me for her uncle’s death? I find I can’t make myself eat any more.

But then my brain jumps to what she’s saying. My hands start to shake and I curl them into my lap.

Could it be? Could it really be that Daniel is alive? And not only alive but here in the city instead of trapped in the mountain somewhere? Having just given up on him, it feels almost painful to hope again. But it’s possible, isn’t it? After all, I found a way out. Maybe Daniel did too.

I frown. If he is alive, why on earth hasn’t he come home? Why didn’t he send word? He must have known that Mami, Abuelita, and I would be frantic, that César would have the men tearing the mine apart searching for him.

Then I remember the last conversation we had together. I don’t know how much longer I can take it, he had said, and I had joked, You planning to run away to a green valley or a sparkling city? He hadn’t answered. My stomach drops.

Would he actually have done that to us?

I wake up the next morning to hard sunlight coming through a glass window. I had spent a few hours last night with the maids in the kitchen but had gotten so sleepy that Yenni packed me off to bed ridiculously early. After my difficult hike down the mountain, I fell right to sleep.

I prop myself up on my elbows and consider my surroundings. I’m in Yenni’s room in the maids’ quarters, with a plain wool blanket wrapped tightly around me. I untwist myself and struggle to my feet. After water and food yesterday I’m much better today, but my body still feels weak from my time lost in the mines and my twisted knee is killing me.

I limp across the gardens to the kitchen. I see the cook and Juana, the quiet dishwashing maid from last night, but Yenni and the other maid aren’t there at the moment. Yenni must have gotten up before dawn to start work.

“Sit down,” barks the cook. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Thank you, Carmencita,” I say, pleased I remember her name. I take my place from last night, at the wooden table. The smells of the kitchen are amazing, and I find my stomach pinching painfully as I wait for the cook to finish what she’s making and bring it over to me. My stomach grumbles, embarrassingly loud. The stocky woman glares at me from across the room, as if hunger in her kitchen were an unforgivable offense.

“Here.” She marches over and plunks a tin mug in front of me. “The tourists drink coffee, but I’ve poured you a cup of api.”

I sniff the thick purple liquid in front of me. In our house we never had anything for breakfast other than coca tea. Food is so expensive we usually only eat once a day—sometimes twice if the price of mineral is high. I’ve never had api. I take a cautious sip.

For someone used to clear tea, api is overwhelmingly rich: sweet, spicy, thick. I sigh with pleasure. Carmencita levels a glare at me from across the room. I worry she might have thought that was a criticism.

“It’s wonderful,” I say sincerely. “What is it?”

Her face softens.

“You make it from ground purple corn, water, and pineapple. Some people make it with oranges, but that’s no good.” Her words are terse, but she seems pleased. “Then you add cinnamon, sugar, and cloves.” She turns away from me again, but her shoulders are relaxed and I can see she’s not angry with me.

Pineapple? Cinnamon? It sounds like a lowland drink. They would have to truck all that stuff up here from the edges of the Amazon rain forest where it grows. No wonder I’ve never had it before. I relax and sip my api happily. I can feel my belly filling, so I am stunned when Carmencita turns around and places a plate in front of me.

“More?” I goggle at her.

She gives me a satisfied look and walks away.

I stare at the plate. An entire roll of soft white bread and three squares of homemade cheese. It’s a feast. I can’t believe my luck and dig in hungrily. Of course, soon I have to slow down, but I force my near-starved stomach to hold as much as it possibly can. I’m not going to throw out the best breakfast of my life.

I chew slowly and take in the kitchen around me.

“Where’s Yenni?” I ask. “And the other maid?”

“Out,” answers Carmencita. “Yenni and Gisele are at the market buying meat and vegetables for dinner.”

Meat, I think, and try not to let my greed show on my face. Cheese for breakfast and meat for dinner? I’m in heaven. Stop dreaming about food and focus! I scold myself. I have a job to do: go into the city, find Daniel, and then get home to Mami as fast as I can.

“Thank you for the food,” I say, finishing up the bread and cheese and drinking the last of the api.

She takes my plate, stacking it by the sink where the quiet Juana is already elbow-deep in soap suds.

I sit for a minute or two more, but then I start to get twitchy. Never in my life have I sat around while other people do work for me. I clear my throat.

“I don’t know what I can do,” I say quietly, “but until Yenni gets back and can take me into town, I’d like to be useful, if